


Picture Taken

by nightcreeping



Category: Clive Barker, The Midnight Meat Train
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Rarepair, Rough Sex, Sex, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightcreeping/pseuds/nightcreeping
Summary: Mahogany honestly didn't know what the fuck this dude wanted.
Relationships: Leon Kaufman/Mahogany
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever, and the only one of this paring I could find. I always thought that these two had an interesting character dynamic in the movie, and I found an article that claimed the movie was an allegory for a man coming to terms with his homosexuality. While I don't agree this is the actual meaning (as clive barker confirmed) it's certainly an interesting view, and I ship the characters already. Basically in this version's events, Leon continues to pursue Mahogany, and Mahogany is, well, conflicted.

Mahogany honestly didn’t know what the fuck this dude wanted.

He could hear the footsteps following him, quick, almost finicky. When he turned the corner and the footsteps sped up he thought, “ _Alright. That’s enough_ ”

There was an audible gulp as whoever it was tried to brush past him, but he wasn’t having that. Fist out, catching clothes, turn around. A young guy faced him, caucasian with short brown hair and a slim face. He stood a few inches shorter than Mahogany and definitely 40 or so pounds less. Looked like ones of those fresh out of college kids.

Looked like Mahogany's victims.

The man was visibly scared, " _Funny for someone who was doing the fucking stalking._ " Mahogany thought.

Mahogany just stared at him, hoping his glare would send the right message. He barely talked to actual people anymore and didn’t want to go through the effort of conversation. It was strange seeing someone so close to him, someone who wasn’t currently getting their brain smashed in or teeth wrenched out. The thought did nothing to calm Mahogany's annoyance.

The man stumbled for words, “I'm sorry, mister, I just wanted a picture of you. Sometimes I don't know what I'm thinking."

He followed it up with some half baked smile and a precarious laugh.

Mahogany studied him suspiciously, gauging his words. He glanced down and there it was, a black camera. Its lens glinted as if taunting him.

“ _Creep._ ” Thought Mahogany.

He turned abruptly and headed for his hotel. He shouldn’t be bothering himself with this stuff. The night haul was terrible, and his masters were certainly not pleased.

Mahogany paused before entering the building, a telltale grip on his neck.

“Wh-“

He turned around.

The guy was still fucking standing there, camera and all, staring right at him. He took in a deep breath before heading inside. The eye contact was almost unsettling. Was his technique off? The kid should have fucked off. Mahogany almost thought to shake his head. Just another carcass to string up if he gets the chance.

Mahogany made the climb up the stairs into his apartment, unlocking the door and closing it behind him. He was methodical, his work demanded it. No time for screw-ups, no time for pauses. Just work, kill, sleep, repeat.

He made his way to the bathroom, the fluorescent light burning into his retinas when he flipped on the light switch. Mahogany looked in the mirror and sighed. He could sense his time was waning.

The growths, ever increasing in number and size were just the start of it. His “gifted” abilities were turning to normal. When he first started this all, started serving the ones he called masters, he was young and strong. They granted him the tools to complete his tasks, trained him to know which people wouldn't be missed, which people would go silently. On the long silent train rides, beneath the mindless drawls of social passengers, he could hear their hearts beating, pulsing, waiting for that telltale stutter, and the final stop he would deliver them.

Mahogany took care of his growths, grimacing as each one came off. A glance up at the mirror and he realized he didn’t look human in its scrutinizing light. He wasn’t sure he was human at all anymore. He managed to put his face to the sink and washed it, wiping away what strain he could. He brushed his teeth with mint toothpaste, the kind he’s always bought.

Moving out of the cramped bathroom and in his bedroom, he slipped under the covers. Mahogany shut his eyes and waited for sleep. It always came quickly.

Him.

He was being fucking followed again, this time around twisting corners of a long corridor of mirrors. As he ran he could hear camera snapshots every minute or so. It was aggravating. Mahogany gripped the metal bar he didn’t know he had, running to catch the sound. Eventually, he came upon a room; and there he was, that fucking camera guy. The stranger sat almost buried under a pile of camera pieces, cuts, and bruises littering his face and arms. He was visibly immobile, but somehow still alive. Still, a smile lit up his face when he saw Mahogany.

His eyes were wet with the same bright fear he had before, the same bizarre expression.  
The stranger opened his mouth, and Mahogany heard the words reverberate in his skull as they spilled out of the stranger's mouth as well.

“I just wanted your picture.”

Mahogany woke up in a cold sweat. He hadn’t dreamt about another person for years.

——————

Mahogany hacked away at the body, pulling teeth from gums and hair from flesh.

“ _A good haul._ ”

This would be the third body of the night, and he still hasn’t checked all the cars.

The train creaked and shook as it always had, whizzing past white lights on the interior of the tunnel, highlighting stray graffiti.

It was somewhat calming in these times, thought Mahogany.

Finished with the bodily hair, he slid both feet into the meat hooks, securing them. He heaved the body up onto the top bar, and

-Holy Shit.

Staring at him through the dirt-stained windows of the next car.

The photographer.

Mahogany was hit with a wave of shock, but he made no move. His personal stalker had not noticed that he was aware of him. He mulled over what to do, and his initial shock quickly turned into calming satisfaction, finally, he would get to kill this fucker.

In sync with the flashing lights of the tunnel, Mahogany slowly turned around and grinned.

Time to die.

It seems the dude had got the message, cause as soon as Mahogany grinned he booked it towards the front of the train.

Taking his time, Mahogany threw open the train door, there would be no escaping. One car, two cars, 10 cars, it made no difference. There was nowhere to run. The kid kept looking behind himself after crossing each car, and the fear on his face was gratifying. In minutes they had reached the final cabin, and the guy was scrabbling at the drivers' door. He pounded on it violently, begging for help. No help would come.

Mahogany walked up to him with purpose, gait clear and confident.

“H-hey wait I”

He was almost shocked at the attempts to plead, but it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. How people begged, the things they had offered. He had seen it all.

Closing the gap between himself and the photographer, he grabbed the man by his shoulders and slammed him into the window. A spiders-web kaleidoscope of cracks erupted on the window, and the previously conscious stranger crumpled to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Cedar stared at him in the dark cabin with eyes piercing cold, but Mahogany paid no mind to it. He was on the floor, methodically placing his tools back into his bag.

“I hope we don’t have a repeat of yesterday again.”

Cedar's cool calculated words almost ran shivers down Mahogany’s back. Almost.

He turned to look at the conductor and nodded to indicate his understanding. Mahogany stood up, bag in arm, and moved towards the back doors.  
In the last train hanging by his feet, was the stranger.

After managing to knock the stalker unconscious, Mahogany lifted him onto his shoulder and made his way toward the last cart. His cleaning cart.

He laid the stranger on his stomach and searched his pockets. A worn black leather wallet, with an ID and a couple of spare bills. Mahogany removed the ID from the wallet, tracing his hands over the imprinted ID numbers.

“Leon Kaufman” it read. 32 years old.

“ _Huh_ ,” Mahogany thought, head tilting as he stared at the small ink printed photo at the bottom of the card.

“So we put a name to the face.” He said to the unconscious body, chuckling at its lack of response.

Mahogany put the ID back in the wallet and placed it in a plastic bag. He rolled over “Leon,” stripping him of his jacket. Mahogany reached for his scissors, cutting the dark gray shirt from Leon’s body. He paused when he got to the end.

There wasn’t anything interesting about the dude, but Mahogany felt himself pause to study him. This was a person who risked his foolish life to capture photographs of some random businessman, or worse, photos of a bonafide killer.

Blood had trickled from matted hair down the left side of Leon’s face, clumping together on his eyelashes and chin.

Out of curiosity, Mahogany opened an eye.

Blue. He hadn't noticed that before.A bit hard to tell in the streetlight. Leon’s chest had a light dusting of hair but was rather lean and skinny.

“ _A starving artist's body_ ,” Mahogany thought.

Mahogany’s hand trailed up to the guys head to begin cutting away hair but instead came to rest on the wet opening. He pulled his fingers back, and they were stained a crimson red.

He could only stare, watching as if he was not in control of his body as his hand made its way towards his mouth. The smell of iron, and then the taste.

Mahogany did not know why he had tasted this man's blood. It’s not as if the others hadn’t recommended it to him, the constant murdering of flesh to serve an omnipotent god brought curiosities to the mind. It wasn’t like any of them were really human anymore, anyhow. But Mahogany had always turned the offer down, not from disgust but rather a genuine lack of interest. He was focused on his task and his task only.

Why did he do this now?

Mahogany sat back, rubbing his temples.

“I must be getting old.”

He sat back up, violent jerking his head as if to rid him of his current confusion. Closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, he chastised himself. “Do your job."

Mahogany attempted to start his work again but found himself transfixed by the photographers' shallow breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

It was almost methodical, like him.

His hands shook as he went to gut the kid.

“Fuck!” Came out of his mouth as he threw his tools. It bounced off the dirty plastic seats and skidded across the floor.

Mahogany didn’t have time to waste on this freak. He began wrapping Leon’s feet with chains, securing them to a hook. He then moved to his hands, tying them behind him.

“It doesn’t matter.” He told himself, trying not to think about it. “I scared him more than enough, he’s not going to seek me out again.”

The calming reasoning was not soothing. He had never done this. Catch someone, and let them live? His masters had never breached the subject, but there was the assumption this conversation would never have to be had.

_“I’ll just dump him at the plant. It’s fine. No one would believe him anyhow, and if he went to the cops he’d just be killed.”_

He had decided.

Mahogany stood up, walking over to his previously discarded tools and placing them back in his bag. He straightened the lapels of his suit, smoothing out any wrinkles.

He took one final look at Leon’s body, dangling there, before closing the door and heading into the next train.

It was getting close to feeding time, and his masters needed him.

At the end of his shift, Mahogany made his way back to the final train car. His stalker was just as unconscious, swinging slightly.

He took Leon down, redressed him, and put back his items on his person. Then, he shoveled him off into the station, lying him down on the tiles.

He turned and didn’t look back.


	3. Chapter 3

A few months had passed, Mahogany continued his job, and life went on as usual.

He had all but forgotten that weirdo, save a passing memory every blue moon or so. His masters hadn’t said anything to him, and the cops never broached the subject so the photographer must have learned his lesson.

Sighing as he got off the train, Mahogany made his way up the symmetrical steps to the dark sidewalk.

It was getting warmer, and more people were out later. He made his way down the street, past the closing drugstores and few night owls.

Mahogany turned the corner-

“What the fuck?”

Someone had grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back towards the wall. He reached out to defend himself with expertise, dropping his bag immediately.

As he got his bearings, he realized his hands were closed around the throat of-

No fucking way.

“Your back.” He breathed out, utterly shocked.

There he was, the photographer, wearing the same black sweatshirt and ripped jeans he had first seen him in.

The stalker tried to answer, but it only came out as garbled noises.

Mahogany was not playing around this time, he leaned in, putting his full pressure on Leon’s neck.

Leon’s hands pulled at Mahogany’s arms, slapping them as he tried to gain purchase. His eyes became increasingly glossy.

Mahogany continued his pursuit until trembling hands raised something to his face.

The camera.

He let go immediately, and Leon almost fell to the ground, leaning on his knees as he coughed and took in heavy breaths.

“Fuck- hah..” An awkward chuckle came out, soon interrupted by more coughs.

Leon didn’t have much time to recover though, because he was pulled up and slammed against the wall.

Mahogany bore his eyes into Leon’s. They were bright and shone with fear. He noticed Leon trembled slightly too, but whether that was from choking him out or the confrontation of a killer, he did not care.

“What. Do you. Want.”

Leon was still catching his breath.

“I- have... something..” his left hand held up the camera, and his right slowly moved to take out the roll.

“Y-you never took it...” He finished weakly.

Mahogany stepped back, now he was scared. What in the fuck what is this guy thinking? He wants to return his evidence, No- he wanted to confront the guy who almost killed him, a third time?

Mahogany leaned into Leon’s space again, breathing heavily. He was frustrated, confused, and tired.

Leon’s eyes faced to meet his, the fear still there, but a glint of determination present.

Suddenly, two lips came crashing down on Mahogany’s mouth. He froze, unable to even breathe. This was way beyond anything he had the time or energy to deal with, and inexplicable beyond all reason. Freezing was all he could do to stop his brain from frying itself.

And just like that, the cool temperature of the air returned to his lips, and Leon's face was angled away from him.

Mahogany thought one thing before grabbing Leon’s face and smashing it back onto his own,

“Crazy fuck.”

It was vicious and animalistic. Leon breathed out in heavy gasps as Mahogany tried to crush him in his grasp. A soft thud came as the camera and its film dropped to the ground. Mahogany bit at Leon’s collar bone, sucking at the blood while Leon jerked forward, almost desperate.

The engagement burned white hot in Mahogany's stomach as he tried just short of devouring his stalker. His mind stayed blank as his body was preoccupied with this new onslaught of sensation. Mahogany continued until he felt his pants strain, and the reality of the situation crashed down on him like ice cold water.

He pulled away violently, listening to both of them panting heavily.

Leon’s head rested against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were half lidded and his pupils blown, but they were bright with arousal. His lips, red and worried were slightly swollen, and the bite on his neck stood out against his skin.

Mahogany felt a hard shape against his thigh and stepped back. He had been grinding his knee into Leon’s erection.

Leon just stood there, still breathing hard, and slowly closed his eyes as his head rested against the wall.

 _“This is not happening.”_ Mahogany thought with a clear finality. _“This is not allowed to happen.”_

A sense of anxiety was creeping upon him, and he knew he had to isolate himself before he truly lost it. This was not good at all.

Spotting his bag on the sidewalk, it centered him. “Go home. Right now.” He told himself.

And with that, he turned around, briskly moving across the street.

“Wait..” The voice came softly, but it made Mahogany shake.

He turned around, and Leon was holding out the camera roll.

“Y-you forgot this..” he said sheepishly.

Mahogany stared at the plastic roll, and then back at Leon. He snatched the film from the outstretched hand.

“I’m Leon.” He said, outstretched hand now waiting for a handshake.

“I know.” Mahogany grumbled out in disgust, and booked it across the street before Leon could say another word.


	4. Chapter 4

Four nights later Mahogany is greeted at the top of his floor by Leon, who was leaned against his door.

How he got the room number, Mahogany had no idea.

The kid -no, Leon- had the same nervous grin. At his side was a 6pack.

Mahogany cursed internally and made his way to the door.

Leon shuffled to the side as Mahogany fiddled with his keys, and Mahogany refused to look at him. He wouldn't give that freak the dignity.

"D-do you like beer? I thought I'd get some it was half off you know? But if you don't want it or don't drink or someth-"

The door was unlocked, and Mahogany shoved Leon through it, who stumbled through in a rather undignified manner.

The apartment was cold and dark, like usual. Geometric carpet and full patterns, coupled with cold unforgiving furniture. Classic no-name hotel.

Leon moved towards the table in the living room, placing the sixpack down. He rocked back and forth on his heels. The silence was deafening, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

Still ignoring him, Mahogany put down his suitcase and hung up his jacket. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Leon just stood there with back to him, clearly not going to start the conversation. Mahogany studied the silhouette and found the same heat pooling in his body as he remembered that night.

Mahogany's frustration and annoyance melted together into something hungry. Something dangerous. Before he could give himself anytime to consider his actions, he moved towards the shorter man. Mahogany placed a hand on Leons shoulder. Leon jumped, and a deep breath was audible. He turned around to face Mahogany.

Mahogany's face was blank but his cogs were turning. Why was.. Leon still jittery? It was annoying. After all Leon was the one who sought him out.

Looking at those bright eyes, Mahogany tentatively slid his hand to Leon's cheek, and Leon grasped his arm as if to halt the motion. Mahogany could feel Leon shake and wondered for a moment if he was doing something wrong.

Mahogany scoffed at himself internally.

_"Wrong? I kill people."_

Disregarding his anxieties, Mahogany guided Leon backward, till the photographers legs hit the couch and he fell onto it.

Leon's trembling had reached a minimum but it wasn't enough. Mahogany leaned into Leon's neck and licked a stripe up it.

Leon released a breath he didn't know he was holding, and his body seemed to deflate in Mahogany's grip.

"I..." He started.

Mahogany moved back to make eye contact with Leon. In the dark, Mahogany's face was just intimidating as ever.

Leon cleared his throat. "I thought you might string me up or something.... stupid huh? If you wanted to kill me it would be easy I guess, but then you would've probably done it already..."

Leon's sight was trained on Mahogany's polished shoes, and he was rubbing his thighs rather aggressively as the words tumbled out of his mouth. His voice had risen and cracked at the end.

" _Ah. So that's why he's a spazz._ " Mahogany thought contentedly. It was satisfying to know he hadn't lost his edge.

The unsure glint in Leon's eye, it was a bit intoxicating. Leon was right, Mahogany could do whatever he wanted. He could fuck Leon, and then kill him. Serve him up to his Masters with no problem.

 _"I might just do that._ " Mahogany thought.

Mahogany grinned and tilted Leon's head up from the chin. He was even more pleased to see how easily Leon complied.

He leaned back into Leon's space and said.

"Your right, I could." And lunged forward


	5. Chapter 5

After Leon's acknowledgment of power Mahogany had suffocated Leon with kisses, savoring his taste. The scratch of Leon's stubble was just right, and as Mahogany found himself snaking his hands under Leon's sweatshirt, Leon's heaving chest jerked forward to meet the wandering hands.

Mahogany turned to grind his knee in between Leon's legs, but the angle made it difficult. He was half crouched at the foot of the couch, while Leon lay back on it.

The lack of contact sparked something desperate and angry in him, and he lifted Leon by his sweatshirt collar and moved him up and against the wall. It was aggressive, and the crack Leon's head made against the plaster upon contact was lovely.

Leon whimpered and blinked rapidly. Whether it was from pain or arousal, Mahogany didn't know. It didn't matter. He reached down to palm Leon through his jeans, holding tight on his hip with the other hand. Leon smelled of sweat and chemicals, and the fever of his skin made Mahogany dizzy. He was keening forward, head resting against Mahogany's chest, hands trembling at his shoulders. He squirmed under the pressure. Mahogany pushed him back and pulled off his sweatshirt, which Leon clumsily tried to aid. Neck, sternum, collar bone, it was all his. His to mash and crush and skin into a pulp. Mahogany settled on biting it.

He continued his work slowly this time, methodical, till he heard Leon gasp out.

"hey,...... p-please."

Leon's voice was breathy and weak, like speaking took the utmost effort. In part, it shocked Mahogany and he stilled, Leon's hoarse breathing the only noise in the room. The plea has tapered off, sounding ridiculously bare and revealing. Mahogany looked at Leon, the same fear ever present, but veiled undeniably with arousal. Leon's eyes didn't even seem to focus.

It reminded Mahogany of his victims' last moments, begging for mercy.

Just this time, he would comply.

\------

They had made it to the bedroom, and finished there, collapsing in exhaustion and succumbing to sleep not soon after.

As Mahogany drifted off next to the comatose Leon he realized truly how tired he was. His bones ached, his muscles burned, and he could feel some sort of pain somewhere in his head.

_It really has been years, hasn't it._

The thought was sobering. His dedication to his Masters didn't allow for this kind of trivialities. Mahogany could not waste the time nor effort on relationships and he found prostitutes insufficient. Why he went along with this dude, Mahogany didn't know.

Leon was just so damn insistent, and, well, crazy. Who fucks the person who tried to kill them?

The confusion and anger invoked when thinking about Leon almost brought Mahogany to move, to get his tools and smash in the warm body that lied next to him, but Post-coital calm stopped him, and Mahogany drifted off to sleep, letting himself slip into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

When Mahogany awoke, he immediately remembered everything. No confusion, no pause. It seemed his mind didn't want him to forget anything, didn't want to afford him the luxury.

Then he heard a beep.

Shifting over to the nightstand, Mahogany saw the time, 11 PM.

He would have to get going soon.

He turned back around to face Leon, who sadly, was still there and very much asleep.

Mahogany took the time to look at him again, studying the ridge of his forehead and the slant of his nose. Leon looked almost dead if it weren't for the slow movement of his chest. He didn't look real, he looked like a video placed on loop.

In. Out. In. Out.

Mahogany reached forward to trace the bites on Leon's collar bone, amazed how Leon didn't even stir. His body was warm, and he felt real. Mahogany's hand moved up to Leon's forehead, brushing back the hair. It was soft, fulfilling some kinesthetic need deep in Mahogany. It truly had been years since he touched another being in this way. Shaving a corpses head and skinning it didn't even come close to what his hand felt now.

As Mahogany's hand moved over Leon's head, he felt something abrasive at the left side of his forehead. He moved back the hair, surprised to see a healing scab.

" _From when I smacked him against the train window._ " Mahogany surmised. 

Mahogany reveled at just how weak people are. This body, already beaten up, just lay there next to him. Offered up like a lamb to slaughter. A lamb, who knew he lay next to a wolf. It brought that perplexing anger back to Mahogany, and he almost didn't notice that he had been rubbing soft circles into the skin near the scab.

Mahogany quickly retracted his hand and thought, " _Stupid. This is stupid_."

He slipped out of bed, collecting his clothes strewn across the floor.

He had to go to work soon.

\------

The train station was mainly empty like usual, and the stench of piss and grime was ever present. It always smelled worse in the summer.

Mahogany sat at the cement bench, feet together, bag in lap, back perfectly straight. He stared ahead, ignoring the discomfort of his starchy collar.

He had left his clothes in the dryer for too long, and his change of clothes came out dry and scratchy.

A lot of things had gone wrong when Mahogany prepared for tonight, namely, having sex with his personal stalker.

Mahogany had closed the bedroom door behind him when he got ready. He didn't want to see the body in his bed. He didn't want a reminder hanging over his head. He was probably headed for deep shit.

He moved toward the kitchen, passing the now lukewarm beer on the living room table. The condensation was definitely going to leave a stain.

Sighing, he picked up the beer and went into the kitchen, placing it in the fridge. An IPA, something he wouldn't drink, but he wasn't that big on alcohol anyhow.

Mahogany moved back out of the kitchen to his laundry room. His dryer light was on and blinking. His clothes had been done for a while. Mahogany took out the clean clothes and dressed himself right there.

When Mahogany finished, he stood in the door frame and stared through the living room to the bedroom.

The cool wood stood foreboding in the moonlight that slipped through the curtains. Three inches between him and a problem he was not equipped to handle.

In his mind, when he was fucking Leon, when he had a hot body writhing under his touch, Mahogany was confident he could rid himself of this problem. He could kill Leon with a quick movement of his hand, reaching up to crush that ruddy, bitten throat.

Now, he realized how stupid he was. How much his dick had clouded his brain.

How the hell was he going to kill Leon? All the people he murdered were disposed of within the next hours, with no physical evidence. Mahogany could lure Leon to the train- hell he could probably ask the idiot and he would come along willing, but Cedar would recognize Leon, and then there would be hell to pay.

He could kill Leon here, but what would he do with the body, carry it to the train? Fuck, what if Leon told someone where he was?

Mahogany's narrowing options struck something in him he hadn't experienced in a while, fear. He felt panicked.

"Fuck!" He yelled, banging his hand against the door frame. A couple more punches and kicks brought him down to stressed heaves.

For all the racket, the bedroom was silent.

Mahogany steeled himself and marched to the bedroom, throwing open the door.

He moved over to the bed to see Leon shift and slowly open his eyes.

"Hey"

The voice was soft and sleepy, and Leon's eyes were only slits. His lips were curled into a contented smile.

Mahogany stared down with the disposition of a statue, an upset one. Leon didn't seem to notice. He blinked his eyes slowly like an affectionate cat, stupid smile still plastered on his face.

Mahogany had seen enough, he was disgusted. Without a word, he turned and moved into the bathroom. When he finished, Leon was back asleep. Mahogany moved out of the bedroom and to the front door. His bag and coat waited for him just where he had left them.

Mahogany stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

So now Mahogany sat, feigning a stoic disposition. He guessed if someone looked close enough, they could see his clenched jaw and strained hands. If someone calculated for the dim yellow hue of the subways lights, they might notice that his knuckles were white. 

However, no one was there to do that. 

The subway was currently empty save himself and his thoughts. Mahogany still felt it was important to maintain the pretense. If his posture failed, all came down crashing with it. He could not afford to be imperfect. 

He wouldn't allow it, his Masters  _ wouldn't _ allow it. 

Thankfully, the train rolled into the station not a minute later, claiming Mahogany from the urine scented tunnel. It groaned into place, creaking as it stopped.

The sight was welcoming. Mahogany was ready for work, even  _ wanted _ to work. Anything to keep his mind steady, focused, trained. 

The metal beast brought with it a familiarity he had always known. 

With his suitcase in a firm grasp, Mahogany stood and walked onto the train as he had always done. The doors reluctantly shut behind him a moment later, condemning the fate of all those inside. 

\-------

Only two cars had people, a man and a woman. Mahogany was ok with that. Usually it took his masters a couple days to get through all the bodies, and he had already supplied them well. 

Too many missing people would raise questions anyhow. 

The first cart held a petite, dark haired woman. She had looked at him when he quietly strode into the cabin, and gave a quick smile. 

Easy prey. 

The guy, positioned in the third to last cabin didn't even spare him a glance. Some blonde 6 foot dude, amped up with a sports drink and phone in hand. 

_ "I should deal with him first,"  _ Mahogany thought. 

The man looked to be in his early thirties, and was dressed in a tanktop and shorts. He had a duffel bag across the seats next to him, probably filled with workout gear. 

The stranger's muscles strained through his shirt. 

Mahogany took a seat a few feet behind him. He set down his bag, and waited. 

Mahogany preferred killing women. 

It was a lot easier, they usually went more quietly. Didn't try to defend others too. 

Mahogany grimaced as he recalled a challenging kill, a black man who he severely underestimated. 

He should have known that the prey would be difficult to take down, the strangers stature rivaling Mahoganies and a black panther outfit to match. What Mahogany didn't expect though, was the machete. 

Left him with a broken rib and a thick scar on his shoulder. 

That was his fault. 

Should've been more prepared. He had gotten careless recently, according to Cedar.

Mahogany's hand raised to pinch his brow. Cedar was always critiquing him, he had gotten the job done hadn't he?

_ "Would probably report me if he knew I didn't kill the kid." _

The fact Mahogany's thoughts traveled back to the man he was trying to ignore only furthered his frustrations. 

He wanted to curse, to shout, to fucking cry. To be allowed to express some semblance of human emotion in order to vent his feelings. 

But this wasn't about him, it never was. 

"It's about my masters.' He thought with a stone revere. 

And his masters demanded perfection. 

Mahogany stood up. It was time to make the first kill of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be a bit gorey ;)


End file.
